What stood out about Angela Bassett's arms in that film is that they were very anachronistic to the time period of the film--women just didn't bulk up like that back then.

Oh, in completely other movie news, I found out yesterday that if you have Comcast OnDemand, you can watch the film Black Sheep (for a few dollars) on TV already! It's in the IFC-On-Demand section.

Where do you stop the meta? I mean, I might wonder why Angela Bassett would let Laurence Fishburne beat the crap out of her...but she didn't. It wouldn't occur to me to wonder why a muscular woman would let her husband beat her. I can't yank halfway out of the picture like you did, because just starting to makes the fiction fall apart.

All I'm talking about is the physicality of the actor undermining a core element of the narrative. For one thing...

What stood out about Angela Bassett's arms in that film is that they were very anachronistic to the time period of the film--women just didn't bulk up like that back then.

It was simply distracting. You're right that physical strength doesn't preclude an abusive relationship, but while Tina was always in great dancer's shape, she was never buff the way Angela was.

In a way it's like the disconnect that happens (fairly often in Hollywood) when an actor is too attractive for a character who depends on looking ordinary for the narrative. (Out of billions of examples, I'll always be particularly boggled by Michelle Pfeiffer in Frankie and Johnny. A role originated on stage by Kathy Bates). But in some ways it's even more distracting when the physicality of the actor overpowers the role. I think you register it subconsciously and it plays agains the narrative.

the physicality of the actor undermining a core element of the narrative

But what does her buffness have to do with being abused? How does it undermine that particular element of the narrative?

The anachronism I totally dig. But it has nothing to do with the abuse for me. She could have been playing almost any (non-Wilma Rudolph) woman of the period and I'd have wrinkled my nose.

I was completely distracted by Renee Z.'s musculature in Chicago (when I wasn't being annoyed by her crinkly face). Jazz babies simply weren't that ripped.

Angela's arms were anachronistic, but they didn't bother me. Neither did Michelle in Frankie & Johnny. I think both times, the actor managed to convey the pathos of the character, and that overrode any concerns I had about their appearance. Kind of like hair - a lot of times, people will be wearing hair that's mildly anachronistic for the period. It depends on how well they sell it.

I LIKE Renee Zellweger and I was completely and totally distracted by her arms.

I like Raising Arizona, too, but it's not my favorite of the Coen's movies. I never saw the Ladykillers, either, and I think I never will.

I was actually a little mad at them because it ruined my streak of having seen every movie of theirs in the theater when it came out. It wasn't even Tom Hanks (who I only have issues with on a movie by movie basis); it was the whole unnecessary remake aspect of it. Granted, I liked Jonathan Demme's two unnecessary remakes that came out around the same time, but somehow THE LADYKILLERS seemed gratuitously unnecessary.

I had to stop watching a period piece once because Cate Blanchett's arms were way, way too skinny for a healthy, upper class woman of the time period, and it pulled me out of the story.

The anachronism I totally dig. But it has nothing to do with the abuse for me.

What ita said.

This premise is almost entirely undone by the fact that when you see Buster in his shorts and tank top he's fucking ripped. He was in unbelievable shape.

Not entirely undone, though. Probably because they didn't go in as much for six-pack abs in the '20s.

The pole vault stunt is the only one he didn't do himself.

I saw The Ladykillers in the theater. It wasn't great, mostly pacing issues I think, but it certainly had its moments.

But I was severely underwhelmed by the original Ladykillers, so the concept of remaking it didn't bother me at all.